


Trees and their apples

by orphan_account



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Science Babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-06 03:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4206708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through the (magic) wonders that is Dust, Induced pluripotent stem cells can be used with great effect to grow babies.<br/>(Note: purely unbridled fluff.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What is iPS and what can it do for you?

"Congratulations! By reading these few lines you have taken the first step into the wonders of Induced pluripotent stem cells (hereafter referred to as iPS) and its amazing traits.

This pamphlet is for to-be parent(s), the curious and those dreaming of becoming parents. That is to say, in here you won't find the many other practical uses of this branch in stem cell research that touches upon its practical uses for those of medical need.

With the immense support and aid from Schnee Dust Corporation (Registered in Atlas, see appendix) the multi-national project to bring iPS to those otherwise unable or simply in need of its fertilisation properties have now reached you.

**What is Stem Cells?**

With atoms being the absolute basic building blocks of our existence, Stem Cells are the basic blocks for organic life. Stem Cells, like atoms when grouped together, can form different variations, which in turn can lead to theoretically limitless combinations of functions.

**Then what is iPS?**

In short, it's the procedure wherein one reverts a cell with a designated function (as skin-tissue or heart-muscles) to its still malleable state. It has been a know procedure for just the last decade, but with the quickly advancing technologies made available with Dust, it's now possible for you to make use of!

**What are the dangers?**

The few there are, are varied. In the field that this pamphlet covers they are even lesser. With the quickly developing tools honed with the growingly intricate use of Dust. As with all procedures, your doctor will give you the best help - literally tailored for you.

**How can it help me/us get a child?**

Like touched upon above, with a cell 'reverted' to its stage as Stem Cell, it is possible to create the cells needed for an egg or sperm. For patients intent on carrying the child themselves, it is then the function of sperm that is mainly reproduced. Whereas there before was a limitation in the fact that the original Cell were taken from a woman, thus carrying double X-chromosomes (see appendix), it has now been counteracted with the careful use of Dust in the process of 'reverting'.

Thus, it is now possible to grow sperm that carries double X-chromosomes or XY-chromosomes."

Eyes quickly scurried over words almost a decade too early to read, a growing frown joining the confused look the child bore.

Sat with crossed legs against a group of pillows at the end of a long couch, the girl swapped page. Recognition lit up her face, small pimples adorning her face like they usually do.

Whipping her head around, deep red hair a mess after time spent pressed against the pillows. Not finding her target, she leaps off the couch, pamphlet safely gripped in a small hand as she took off.

Skidding to a stop outside the house's library, its door facing the wall-window looking over the grounds and several misplaced (totally not forgotten) toys on the carefully kept lawn. Her target located, the child hurried inside as she requested its attention.

"Mum, you're in this!" With hardly any surprise shown, the woman with long white hair turned to take in the sight of her daughter running up to her with something crumpled in her small fist. Having slowly phased herself out of the spotlight, occurrences like this had grown rare, yet she was not troubled by the fact that the child had managed to find something new.

With a well-planned jump, the child joined her mother on the couch where she worked to untangle the pamphlet without ruining it even more.

"And, and... I have no idea what it's about!" The child continued as she simultaneously got onto her mother's lap and showed the wrinkled mess.

"Let me see, honey." Patience tried over decades and sharpened into an absolute rock in the last few years, Weiss Schnee carefully worked the paper out of the intrigued child's hand.

Glancing over the cover's logotype and headline, she was not surprised by the fact her barely 6-year old daughter did not get what it was about.

"There, see, you're in it!" Eagerly the child pointed out the small picture that, indeed, was a younger Weiss.

"And, here, what's a...a, crossomom?"

Taking a deep breath in preparation, Weiss Schnee, married for 8 years and mother for (almost) 6, did her best to explain how flowers and flowers works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been years since I last read this massive amount of reference-packed literature, but I hope I managed get the most essential parts through and that this chapter does serve its purpose as introduction.  
> (If there happen to be someone interested in proofreading/beta, send a PM.)


	2. Combat Totes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coco and Velvet, tested parents that faces their everyday struggles together.

"Mum, what is this?"

"That, my dear, happens to be a very nice and trendy shirt from..." Cut off defending the particular clothing on display, Coco's frown starts to mimic that of her son.

"What, nice at what? - inducing epilepsy?" Clearly doing his best to insult the garment, Coco closes the brochure that had just arrived with the post.

"Don't be smart on me, buns. I'll have you know that..."

"Moom, don't call me that!" From a room further down the hall, a reply echoes.

"What, is everything all right?" As worried steps grow increasingly louder, the couple's son sigh and turns to reply but barely gets a word out before his other mother shows up in the door-way.

"Did you call - oh Dust, what is that?" With one of her many fluffy pets pressed against her chest and idly stroking between its ears, Velvet appears as surprised by the shirt as her son. Coco discards the brochure with a grimace and rises up to remove it from her son's possession.

"You two are just unfair, and more to the point, where did you even find this?" Coco takes the long-sleeved shirt and stretches it out to catch the last of the late afternoon's sun.

"Just checking upstairs, and there it was." Somewhat too convenient, and thanks to expertise dealing with teenagers, Coco throws her son a disbelieving glance.

"If it really were out in the open, I'd have known of it..." Muttering mostly to herself, Velvet walks up to her wife and studies the shirt as well. Contrasting to Coco, her face displays clear and adulterated horror.

"What, it totally was." Her son's eyes flutter between the garment and the bunny pressed against her other mother's chest. With Velvet being the one that bore him, he took after her physical traits, so not only does he sport a set of light-brown and tall ears but also a keen interest in their attribute-sharing kin. It really had little to do with the inherent traits and more with being around the animals well before he knew what to call them.

"Anyhow," pointedly Coco had the remaining part of her family return their attention to her instead of the pet, "as I was just saying, it's a good piece by a well-known brand and I am still curious as to how you managed to find it." Carefully folding it with the effective movements of one trained in the arts, Coco keeps one eye on her son as she waits for an answer.

"I-I might have checked the closet, just a little. Just to make sure Lewis hadn't run off again." Lewis, the infamous furred scavenger of the household. A menace with hunger for silk, plaid and all types of cushions. Silently Coco prays that her son haven't jinxed their now week-long restless peace by bringing up the _creature's_ name. Unlike his siblings, Lewis had kept his diet refined and safe from wires. Needless to say, he was now the sole survivor of that generation.

"Good, honey. And I take it he wasn't there? Or that you hadn't planned to feed him this?" A warning glare that she sadly noticed was answered with poorly hidden regret from her son. Velvet patted her son's shoulder, and passed over her care to him. A dull thud echoed through the house, and reflexively being careful of the bunny their son jumped where he stood.

A quick glance between his mothers, and Coco sighed as she again picked up the shirt. As she strode past the others, she put on a voice of true, heart-rendering hurt and despair.

"Seeing how it faces naught but scorn and gall, I will now return this where it belongs." Velvet, one arm over her son's shoulder nodded in reply while their son muttered something in teenager-speech.

Walking through the hallway separating the front and back end of the house, Coco cracked her knuckles and tossed the shirt onto the stairs.

Being close to faunus was still a sensitive matter, especially in the upper rings of the social elite.

Courting one, is even worse. And then marrying the same, few scandals could match. Then having a child, who inherits the faunus' parents traits, is the icing on the cake that toppled the cup.

Coco had known this as she grew up. She knew it when she first met faunus in school, when she got teamed with one and when they got together romantically. Through it all, she could not care less about how others viewed her or ridiculed her.

However, as the ridicule evolved along with her involvement with Coco, she slowly learned to despise her fellow humans.

On her toes, she peeked through the reinforced glass by their entrance and spotted none of the youngsters who braved their thorny hedges. Carefully, she undid the automatic and aura-based safeties around the door and with all her senses focused on taking in the world beyond, she put her head through a small gap.

No prickling sense of danger along her spine, and no quick movements warranting a hasty retreat. Still ready, she looked around and spotted the dent in the hardened wood from this most recent 'gift'. With her senses enhanced, she had recognised the foul stench of the concoction based on sour milk and excrements, so the small container barely cracked from the impact by the door didn't surprise her.

Another quick scan of their front-yard, and Coco closes the door before she dares to relax.

There had been letters promising fire, and worse, for the last few weeks so another liquid bomb like this had to be ironically enjoyed. A few flicks to activate the lock, and Coco walks back to pick up the shirt by the stairs.

"Honey, what was it? A bird again?" Velvet's soft voice travels easily through the house and Coco got to restrain the true feelings she wishes to express as she replies.

"Yeah, but it could still fly, so no worries."


	3. Old Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say that it's best to keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer.  
> Who's to say what's too close?

Image by [hiwonoafu ](http://hiwonoafu.tumblr.com/post/141080355624/science-baby-commission-info-on-sketch)that I commissioned.

* * *

 

Glynda Goldwitch, a stout woman in her prime, hate hospitals.

It's not about the smell, nor the aesthetics, Dust knows she's forced to face worse of that at her work.

Nor is it the inherent fact that being there mostly requires someone to be hurt, or otherwise in need.

Had it not been for the fact she rarely had to visit the institution in her youth, one might have guessed it was simply from prior bad experience.

No, if forced to be frank about her dislike (which, chances are low of ever happening) she would call it the whole experience is what ticks her off.  
The fact one's helpless, in someone else's care and except in rare cases can make demands. Simply put, one's at the staff's mercy.

And for Glynda, that's a fate worse than death.

So, had it not been for the plain necessity of her being there today, she wouldn't be within sight of the building.

Especially one owned by a former student.

* * *

 

Wringing her hands, Glynda tried to catch the eyes of the nurse that rushed past her on soft-heeled shoes. No luck this time either, as the nurse exited the hall-way through the swinging doors leading out to the general reception area. It had taken her little but a stern look to go past those doors herself few hours ago, but having sat on this stale couch since then had her even more restless.

Even if you accompany a birthing mother, there are limits to your access, stern glances or not.

That was another thing she hated, limits, and as her knuckles grow sore in her distress she tried to find a way to get into delivery room just across the hall-way. The warning red of the light next to it does little to sway her, as the staff had realised the instance they tried to keep her from entering.

"Quarantine", "safety for the unborn", "controlled environment protocols" - all words that meant the same thing, she could not see Cinder deliver their child.

A fact she, despite the strenuous months leading up to this, she still could not grasp in its entirety. Her, and Cinder, having a child?

Of course, that fact (then considered purely fantasy) had been discussed, discarded and even further idolised in-between deep kisses and extended intimacy in their youth. As they promised each-other to always protect, aid and love what they had it did little to change the fact that it was just plain impossible.

Even more-so when Cinder left, a young vigilante without scruples to warrant the love Glynda had for her.

A love that laid dormant until Glynder's return several years later. With their quickly growing contact, the fire flared up anew, and soon they again found themselves wishing for a future enjoyed together. Gone were however the dreams silently whispered as they embraced, replaced by the nudges and looks shared when spotting someone in possession of the joy they sought. A child's laughter as they passed a playground, the tatter of small feet from the neighbour's, all that made it obvious what they could not have.

So, the day the two first heard of the new funds directly passed from SDC's inner circles to the research of iPS, they stood dumbfound as the following explanation of the concept was explained.

Both well aware of the impact of crushed dreams, followed the news as progress was reported steadily.

"It was theoretically possible", they said first.

Then, "we have a thesis".

"Conceptual research proves theory correct."

"Simulations may indicate a plausible solution."

"Continued simulations support not only thesis, but shows good progress and stable ground for further development."

Glynda had dropped her cup of tea as she read the headlines; "Human trials approved by court, funding secured by SDC" one murky evening while Cinder was busy repairing a skin-suit in the kitchen.

* * *

 

"...Goodwitch? Is that you?" Jolting from her memories, Glynda throws her head to face the voice - maybe they'll let her in now? As her brain catches up, recognition creeps up her awareness as she tracks the flowing white dress blocking her view of the door behind which Cinder remains.

"I got to admit being surprised to see you here, how are you?" It has been almost half a decade since she heard that voice speak to her directly. However, she had heard it, like most who could claim functioning hearing, actively propelling her company into the future.

"Miss Schnee, had I not known this to be your establishment I'd claim the same." The basic functions of her brain works quick, deflecting the polite inquiry.

Despite having been in Glynda's care during her late puberty, somehow Weiss appeared taller standing here now - maybe it was just her presence that evolved with her responsibility. Tucking a long lock of her still-alabaster hair behind an ear, her former student shifts her posture to a more relaxed one. Glynda, her occupation engraved in her marrow, notices how even unarmed the girl keeps a hand close to her waist. If not for her fixation on boots, Glynda would find Wiess' posture picture-perfect.

"True, though, if that was all it took you would never go safe. I have been told I either directly or indirectly own all but a few acres inside the city borders." A joke. That still had the focus be her wealth and social stature. Yet, she did not sport the frown like she used to when forced to do the same back when she was her student. Maybe it was more than her involvement in the business that matured.

"Then I'm glad to know it's you-..." Cut off in her retort, the man who had introduced himself as just "assistant" all those hours ago, nudged Glynda's shoulder.

"I'm sorry to disturb, but we're now confident in letting you enter and following the wishes of your partner, I did not want to delay the invitation." The mask covering the man's face muddled his speech a little, but Glynda heard how he focused on who had brought up the need of Glynda's presence in there.

Again her most basic instincts caught on first, she got to get in there. Not before she had a hand against the door, did she remember the woman with whom she had held a conversation shortest of moments ago.

"Sorry, but I got to rush." Fewer words, more movement of legs. Press open door, grab the small self-contained breathing mask handed to her. Rocking the mask over her face, she fumbles with its controls as she enters the air-lock where she got stopped before. The seconds spent in there, with unhindered sight of Cinder across the entirely white room are the most excruciating ones she will ever remember.

The shriek of a small child as she enters the actual delivery room, however, makes up for it thousand-fold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's track: 硝子の花園  
> Were they even trying not to be super-gaeh when they wrote this?  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the other gay sister.

ang carefully stepped up behind the couch, well aware of her target's focus being on the recliner further to her right.  
  
Training, along with experience, makes tasks like these too easy for Yang, yet she embarks on them with the same glee as her first.  
Another step, and she can now make out the sole of one of her target's slippers. With victory at hand, she presses low to the floor, careful not to breath too deep when this near the domains rare visited by broom or vacuum, she glides ever closer.  
  
Just when she's about to grab the ankle attached to the slippers, it retracts and her target changes her posture - it's moving. Quickly Yang draws back her hand, ever careful not to scratch the soft back of the couch as she does so. The slippers make a soft noise as the target moves to the front of the couch, and Yang takes this one chance to bring a swift end to the debacle. With great focus, she pushes herself off the floor and onto the couch's back where she quickly grabs hold of her unknowing pray.  
  
"Caught you!" Her capturing, along with declaration is met with a startled shriek followed quickly by disbelieving laughter.  
  
"Aaaw, where you there the whole time?" With her daughter caught and now facing her righteous punishment, Yang slides over the couch and brings her daughter to sit against her.  
  
"For the last few minutes, yes, and had you not," a harsh outbreak of giggles is Yang's rewards as she starts tickling her captive, "been too focused on that chair, you might have heard me. You got to move those ears, OK?" Dedicating one hand to rubbing the top of her daughter's head, stroking the aforementioned appendages carefully, Yang shares some wisdoms.  
  
"You cheat, right?" Yang scoffs, and renews her efforts to break her captive's resistance in the face of these accusations (no one will ever find out if they're true).  
  
"I did not, but when I play - I play to win, all right?" With her hand still on her daughter's head, she feels the soft fur as the ears move to face a new source of sound.  
  
"Mum's back." Somewhat breath-taken, her daughter shares the news and tries to escape Yang's clutches.  
  
"Yup, but you're not getting away that easily!" Yang knew that already, after years spent with her partner-turned...well, partner, she has become finely attuned to her presence in the vicinity.  
  
Still busy scratching between her daughter's ears, she nods in a greeting as Blake enters with the couple's other twin attached in a harness at her front.  
  
"What's this, you two up to no good again?" With a masterful deadpan, Blake drops her black bag by the door as it closes behind her and takes in the scene.  
  
"Clearly, my dear, you know us all too well." Yang lets her daughter flee, running up to greet her other mother with a hug before going through the bag in a hunt for sweets.  
  
The twin not busy with going through Blake's bag, snores lightly as Blake unclasps the harness at her back. Letting Yang take the son, who simply mumbles something in his sleep as she removes her coat. Yang carefully moves the boy around in her arms as she tries not to wake him up, despite knowing full well he won't wake up for another couple of hours.  
  
These routine visits to the hospitals has become common for the family, and with the son sedated to handle the check-up, they know it's for the best to let him remain asleep. Giving Blake a peck on her nose, still somewhat frozen from the winter outside, Yang then turns to leave and tuck the son in.  
  
Hours pass, the son wakes up and the family dines before again returning him and his sister to bed. Despite her almost anarchistic views on regulations and system, Yang truly strive for her children's best.  
  
Slowly sloshing the remains of her wine in a tall glass, she hums as Blake finish retelling the doctor's words from earlier that day.  
  
"And he wants us to come in more often, so we got to be there in two weeks." Yang knows that the silent dread in her partner's words is not out of tiredness - but of worry. Had she been the one to take their son today, Yang would have been more outspoken in her worries, but she knows full well that they are equally worried.  
  
Infusing red dust in the iPS-process, is rare. It being successful, is even rarer. Add to that there were twins, and their case is unique in the (so far) short span of use. With their daughter being born first, surprise quickly changed into joy for the parents as all they knew was the fact they were having twins. When their son somewhat later came, and Blake almost deathly pale from the effort, that joy quickly silenced.  
  
Like his sister, he also inherited the extra ears atop his small head. But, at the basis of the spine what could be considered 'expected', ended. The mangle of structure and muscles that should have been his pelvis and legs has since his birth 5 years ago caused these visits.  
  
"Most likely the body tried to develop a tail." "It's a rare, unique, case and we can not know for sure." "Except that disfigurement, he's healthy."  
  
As the years passed, so did the doctors and their guesses for the reasons.  
  
The fact remained, their son did not have legs.  
  
As they worked their way not only through the stages of grief and blame, the hospital grew all the more interested in their son.  
  
"We'd like you to come in for a few tests...blood and skin."  
"I hate to ask you this, but we need to have you bring him in again, for another set of tests." "What kind? Well, blood and bone marrow - no, it's perfectly safe."  
"For his own safety, we must ask you to come in once a month for tests, to monitor him." "No need to worry, it's all just to be 110% safe."  
  
And now this, twice a month. And all the reason they could give were "to monitor him".  
  
"Maybe...maybe we should try Weiss again." Blake almost whispers this, almost like bringing her up would incur the probable lack of results like last time.  
  
"I, well, she owns it - like she said last time, but she can't really make them know it..." Yang tries to stay reasonable, despite the burning need to follow the suggestion. Just sitting and discussing it wouldn't take them anywhere, but she can not run off like she used to any longer.  
  
"What if they do know, but can't tell? O-or, just won't?" No, please, Yang pleads in her head. Those words scurry her mind in the dark as she lies in bed, unable to sleep. Early on in their sons life, she even said them as well. Or, shouted them. She will not believe it to be so, she can not.  
  
Yang finishes her wine, and leaves her chair to crouch by Blake.  
  
"If they knew, for certain, they would tell us. Okay? They want to help us, Blake." A glimpse of a snarl, but Blake reigns it back. When has humans ever wanted to help her? - Yang hears it in her head.  
  
"But, we will give Weiss a call tomorrow, a good idea." Yang tries to control the embers that her partner now holds, able to start fires that only Yang could before. Now, she doubts she would able to handle the flames if Blake flared up.  
  
She kisses Blake's hands as they grip her glass tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Staying true to the anon on /u/'s advice, I dilute the fluff with some anti-fluff. (Not that I would even be capable of keeping it pure fluff, too poor of a writer for that.)  
> (Still looking for a beta/proofreader as my prose needs some aid.)


	5. Day in the park

"Mum!" An excited exclamation followed by a mess of syllables. The child, too excited to make himself understood, focused instead on getting his mother's attention by wildly patting the parts of her shoulders he could reach from the harness against her chest.

"Yes, honey, I see them." Blake had spotted the target of her son's attention well before he did, yet she did not begrudge him the excitement. It had been well over a month since she last saw her partner's sister and her daughter. Sat next to her daughter, Ruby Rose did not appear to act the age Blake knew her to be, as she was just as thrilled by the wonders of the construction work in front of her as her lot younger compatriot.

Blake passed the hinged gate leading into the small park, and took in the rest of the wide and open space. Year and a half with children had done little to blunt her training, and her reflexive search of any room or space she entered was proof of that. Luckily, as time passed since the children had entered her life, the moments of danger had decreased exponentially.

Still, she made a mental note to keep an eye on the two dogs that were unleashed and playing in the open field beyond the playground. They didn't appear to be an aggressive breed, but one would never know. Walking up to her sister in law, she nodded to the older man who seemed to be in charge of his grandchildren going by the jolly shrieks and laughter emitting from the play castle not far from him. She got a glance in return, and with her keen traits noticed the quick scan of both herself and her child that followed. No nod returned. Pushing down the notion that it had to be because of her heritage, she guessed it was due to her child's disability.

Since her twins' birth, they had yet to face direct acts of racism or dislike, like her own childhood. Instead she, and them, got looks of pity, concern and like just now - disinterest. Being 'healthy' had come to be more rudimentary than 'human', so when her children played with ears visible, people instead focused on what one of them was missing.

"Hiya, Blake and hello lil' guy!" Cut from her train of thought, the ever cheerful voice of (still) team leader, Blake lit up in a small smile that came simply from meeting someone nice.

"Good morning, Ruby and Crystal, what a nice castle you've got there." Almost drowned by her son's greetings and joyous outburst, Blake leans down to sit on the edge of the sandpit.

"Good morning, Blake and Yu."Crystal replied and without looking up, the pair finished one of several towers attached to the large over-turned bucket that served as castle foundation. Ruby dusts her hands as she turns and moves over to coo at the younger child.

"You have grown! Just look at you, eh." Repeatedly dodging Yu's small hands, Ruby squeezes his cheeks with a growing grin. Distraught by the vocal outburst of indignation from Yu, Crystal looks up from her prestigious creation to inspect the intruders.

"Mum, be careful!" Crystal nudges her mother's foot away from one of the overly intricate towers as she sits up. Blake looks over Ruby's shoulder as the young woman keeps pestering Yu with cooing and pats, receiving continuous gibberish and laughter in return. Crystal, now age 5 has taken her aristocratic mother's looks along with her less refined mother's temperament and mind. A long, messy, ponytail hangs down her back and it contrasts sharply with the overalls in light blue (and spots of dirt) she's otherwise wearing. The small redhead smiles as she walks up to stand by her mother and joins her greeting of Blake's son.

"Where's Yang, Blake?" Expertly fiddling with Yu's fingers as he finally manage to catch her hand, Ruby looks over Blake's shoulder for her sister.

"She'll be here soon, Poplier and her went to pick something up at the post office." His focus as quick to change as his mood, Yu reacts to his sister's name.

"Pop?" Still with a firm grip on Ruby's hand, he looks up at his mother expectantly. Blake rubs between his feline ears as she nods, "yes, soon, sweetie."

Crystal takes the opportunity to pat Yu, so with a great jolt he returns to defending his honour.

* * *

Half an hour passes quickly, and both redheads had quit offending the poor boy in favour of finishing their castle. After ensuring his mother with energetic nods that he's not going to eat the sand, Yu is also allowed into the sandpit where he quickly moves to join the two castle-builders.

Blake, content with sitting on the edge and look on, does so as the trio works on. Something in not only seeing other people work, but her child having fun, makes her forget the earlier incident. Instead, she's silently overjoyed to see how little the lack of limbs in her son matters to the other two. Again, she wonders how it is that people can deny karma, as she finds herself a perfect example of it in action. A hard life rewarded by not only a lover and child, but friends she can trusts wholeheartedly.

It is when the trio is just about to complete the third, and uppermost, level of their castle that Blake notices the prickle along her spine she now knows come from her lover being close. The glance from Ruby tells her that she's aware of her presence as well. This time, Ruby dusts herself well in time before the second half of Blake's family joins them in the park

Yang, dressed in a tight-fitting and open blouse with just a black top underneath got a long package that scrambles in one hand and her daughter in the other. The daughter, in turn, is armed with a stick she uses to succumb the small pebble on the ground to her will. Her quest for domination ends as the pair enters through the gate and with renewed vigour runs up to her brother and second mother. On the way, and as Blake kneels to greet her daughter, she excitedly (like her brother) retells her morning along with gibberish to accentuate. Blake catches a few words, but doesn't let it keep her from enveloping her child in a tight hug while still sharing her tales.

As Yang, in more controlled pace, moves to the pit, she laughs at her child's antics.

"She's been about to _pop_ forever. Mornin', reds." A nonchalant wave as she stops by Blake and there sits down to stay level with the two remaining children.

"That's...a very nice castle." Slightly shocked by the work, she eyes Ruby and Crystal with clear surprise. Turning to her son, still focused on his part in a bridge leading up to one of the gates, she rubs between his ears for his attention.

"Ma!" Focus shifting again, he doesn't notice the bridge fall into itself as he makes his way (minding the ever-growing walls of the castle) to be lifted up by Yang.

"How's my little builder doing, huh? You made all this, yeah?" She notices the small frown on Crystal, but is quickly corrected by her son's explanation in his part of the work. Along with several exclamatory flails she manage to make out he had a hand in the walls and the bridge, but the rest is **actually** Ruby's and Crystal's work.

While Yang listens to her son regale the endeavours that bridges make, Poplier enters the constructions with expressive awe. Crystal takes the chance to introduce Poplier to the finer parts of castle-making. The spires, especially, captures Poplier's attention, given the lack of water in the vicinity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reasoning for the names are as follows:  
> Crystal - works with both winter/snow and gems.  
> Yu - Chinese reading of 妤, which means 'fair'. Just like 'blac' in old English.  
> Poplier - English writing of French 'peuplier', which means poplar, just like 'yang' in Chinese.  
> It's 09:50 as I decided on the names, and I'm astonished I could even make something up.  
> (Again, anyone feeling like beta/proofreading, hit me up.)


	6. Continuing days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Concluding part of the tale focused on RWBY's cast's offspring.

With her back against the tall windows, Glynda faced the door to her office where were now sat busy grading one class' assignments.  
  
The massive burg had over the years come to be more of a home than she could ever have dreamed of, and given its appearance and style, she considered herself lucky. Scribbling down a barely passing grade on an essay in which the author tried to explain the cyclic displays of ursa aggression's connection to the moon's. Had it not been for the overall poor structure of the writing, and lack of references, she would have given a higher grade simply due to it being so unorthodox.  
  
But, unorthodox or not, she would not allow just any mistakes to go unpunished - she had a reputation to uphold (which do coincide with the quality of student's works).  
  
Moving the essay ontop of her ever-growing stack of finished work, she took a deep breath in preparation for the next. Just the name on its front had her worryingly disturbed.  
  
Chrystal Schnee, the literal shining gem in her defence class and also a productive part of her more theoretical classes. Those traits did not however encompass her writing, as they more or less had to be seen as case for the cryptologist division. Most of her work was thorough, and more often than not stellar. Yet, it had to be read a handful of times for one to match the different parts of her theories as they showed up in a completely illogical pattern throughout it all.  
  
Glancing at the headline, Glynda felt her hope of an early evening drain along with a rising urge for another cup of coffee. She knew now that it had been a bad idea to have her pupils decide their topics, as long as it stayed relevant to the science of Grim.  
  
"Effects and causes of dust-use in co-relation with Grim population traits". The matter had to be at least ten years ahead of the young girl, but she had obviously taking the task to heart, as she had produced almost 15 pages in total. As Glynda wondered how accurate her observation of Grim traits could be, she whipped her wand to activate the kettle to her right, having it heat up in advance. Before she got the chance to finish the paper's introduction, a soft knock the window behind her broke her concentration.

Turning around, expecting an overly energetic student trying their wall-climbing skills (again), she's surprised to see the ink-dark hair of her long-time partner and mother to her daughter. Of all the ways she's experienced her lover's knack for sudden appearances and quirky means of finding her way, she got to list this as one of the weirder ones.

As the two silently glare at each other, Cinder got one arm firmly holding onto the wall while ushering Glynda with her other. Knowing full well the troubles the two would face if Cinder's presence became known, Glynda remains seated to the Cinder's obvious disbelief. Cinder appears to try sign language, but her one-armed gestures fail to convey the depth of her needs so as Glynda crosses her legs and puts on her best 'teacher-frown', Cinder grows all the more desperate. Seeing no other solution than breaking in, Cinder flicks her fingers to activate a spell with trained ease, and slowly moves the glowing finger closer to the transparent hinder.

Knowing full well Cinder's capabilities, Glynda decides to end the farce. With a deep sigh, and Cinder's growing grin, she lets her in.

As Cinder glides in through the window, she shakes her hand to de-activate the spell before moving in for a greeting kiss. Glynda offers her cheek, still with a frown.

"Don't be like that, you know I can't just walk in. Not any longer at least." Despite the complaints, Cinder does plant a soft kiss on Glynda's cheek.

"I know, but up the wall? - this castle is known to be impervious, it's dangerous." Glynda closes the window after a quick glance down the sleek stones and the yards far below. It being late after-school hours, the lack of students milling around does little to ease her concern.

"Not for me it isn't, and I've done it several times." The emphasised sway of her hips, tell Glynda that Cinder do appreciate the concern even if she doesn't voice it. Before Glynda can move the topic back to Cinder's being there, she has found the stack of papers on the desk.

"Oh, your work- 'Effects and...'" Cinder turns quiet as she reads the first lines of the topmost paper, then turns around with in her hands. She's clearly not taking the topic lightly, going by her flabbergasted expression.

"She's what, barely fifteen? I know there was something up with that red-head and ice-queen." Cinder skims through the first page, her expression turning more troubled for every line. Finally, finishing the first page, she returns it to the desk with a contemptuous flick of her wrist.

"Between the two of us, is she on something?" A smile returns to her face, and Glynda finds herself unable to keep her frown in the face of her lover. It's something with her charisma that not only had her hooked all those years ago, but she finds herself drawn to every day. Despite having lived together for now close to half their individual lifespans, the effects haven't lessened.

"Anyway, I was bored and my gut told me you needed some company, so here I am." She finishes her short explanation with a flourish ending in a graceful dip, making it hard for Glynda focus away from the cleavage. Clearing her throat, Glynda gives her own version.

"I'd guess that you were bored, and with Ember off at work you got lonely as well, so here you are." Cinder keeps her pose, for a moment, before firing off another grin as she looks up.

"We will never know, will we? Word against word and all that. And you know full well that I'd prefer to be pressed against." Oh dust, the hurtfully awful delivery along with the grin had Glynda almost laugh out in response. Shifting her blouse's strangling neck, Glynda hides her smile and instead walks up to her desk where she sits down.

"You are most mistaken, ma'am. I am a devout teacher with an awful lot of work left to complete, even if the preposition poorly hidden in your words held any interest to me." Doing her best to fake disinterest, she again picks up the work of the latest Schnee to end up in her care.

"Damned be these tasks that keeps you, the one most dear to me, from engaging in mindblowing. Steamy. Desk. Grinding." As Cinder slowly crouched down by Glynda's shoulder, the tone turned from noble to outright sultry and dripping with promises of just what she coveted.

* * *

The small group of teenagers, whispering to themselves to inspire confidence in preparation for the task ahead of them, walked slowly up to the awe-inspiring door. Behind the door lay not only the target of their worries, but also the home of the most 'respected' (as to referred instead of horrifying' teacher of this institution. The team, having separately worked on the assignment given to them by this teacher, had afterwards learnt of how similar each work had turned out. Thus, they now felt the need to explain that it was purely by chance the four of them had written about the same topic. With disturbingly similar conclusions and references. Funny thing, really.

The long-eared gun wielder of the four was the first to react to the suspicious nature of whatever transpired behind those doors. The other three, not blessed with same extraordinary hearing, only noticed it moments before they were about to knock. Curiosity quickly overpowered their (based on respect) fears, and instead of knocking to call upon the room's occupant's attention they instead chose to listen more carefully by the gaps by the door.

It took merely a few short moments for the same member that first realised something was amiss, to asses the nature of this situation. Quickly shielding his deeply blushing cheeks with his long ears, did his damnedest to steer his companions away from their quickly peaking interest in the happenings behind the door.

He failed to ward them off.

When the three teenagers got to face the infuriated inhabitant of the room shortly thereafter, he was long gone.

That evening, Coco spit out her before-bed cup of warm milk all over the couch where she lay as she read her son's daily email.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go, six chapters, about double that of writer's blocks and two kittens later, the end has come.  
> Let me know of any poor spelling/grammar mistakes and such, or if you feel like it - become proofreader/beta.


End file.
